Tuesday. 25th.

Wrote to my father this morning and went to the Office, passed the morning in reading
Blackstone. Commenced Edwards’ History of the West Indies in the afternoon. The day
was fine and my spirits tolerably good. Took a walk in the evening and fancied myself
sick which I always do when I have not occupation sufficiently engrossing. I thought
much of consumption. Evening at home, occupied as usual.